


Other Echoes

by shapechanger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acceptance, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shapechanger/pseuds/shapechanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus, Tonks and the acceptance of differences that set them apart from the rest of society.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Echoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jemmasimmns (laurellance)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurellance/gifts).



Upon meeting Nymphadora Tonks, Remus was to learn a few very important facts.

The first being that under no circumstances was he (or anyone else, under threat of grievous bodily harm) to use her first name or any diminutive thereof. The second was that she took two sugars in her tea when it was offered, and made certain to thank the person who made it directly. The third was that she was somewhat clumsy, but in such a way that suggested a body that was always changing, one that didn’t always fit the distractions of a lively mind rather than ineptitude or actual gracelessness. Others might have missed the difference, not seen the faint trace of embarrassment that she brushed off from evident habit when she stumbled upon entering the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, but not Remus. Oh, there was no blush or burn to her cheekbones like most to point up the embarrassment; Tonks’ ability prevented that. However, there was a slight inward curve to her shoulders, subtle enough, but it still suggested such stumbles were a frequent and unwelcome occurrence. Her body language, varied as it was, told him a great deal in a very short amount of time.

The fourth and final thing that he learned was that everything about her was vibrant, non-linear, unpredictable, and that it was difficult not to be drawn to that vibrancy. There were other echoes to every colour she brought to a room which suggested depth, chiaroscuro, the play of light and dark, even as Tonks talked and laughed easily among the Order as though she’d always been there. Everything about her drew the eye, and for Remus, it had less to do with her predilection for pink hair, and far more to do with the way that she inhabited space.

Remus didn’t feel the need to point out that she was a metamorphmagus, stating the obvious was unhelpful and he imagined that Tonks often had people gaping at her when she disclosed what she was capable of. She hadn’t known that he was a werewolf at first, though it seemed likely that she might have heard his name in circulation with the term at some distant point in the past. It was from the point of his unspoken acceptance that they eventually began to speak to one another, reaching out, discovering further small details one day at a time. Eventually there was a late night where neither of them could sleep, and the question fell into conversation of why he hadn’t asked the way that most did about what she was capable of. When she queried the matter, Remus had simply smiled and said, “The differences of others aren’t something I tend to point out unless they choose to introduce the topic themselves, given my own.” At that point, he had quietly told her what he was, what he had been since childhood, what he would always be, doing his best to ignore the faint nagging anxiety that accompanied the words. Her reaction had been unprecedented.

With a small smile, Tonks had spoken softly. “I’m not going to tell you it doesn’t change what I think of you.” His stomach had tightened, entire body tensed at those words, before she spoke again. “It does, but only because I’ve learned more of you. The pieces weren’t quite fitting together before on who you were, though I had noticed things.” Yes, of course she would have noticed some of the signs, she was an _Auror_ for Merlin’s sake and a metamorphmagus besides; her stock-in-trade consisted of observation skills above those of ordinary people, much like his own. But anyone else would have confronted him on the matter, and she hadn’t, he realised. She had _waited_ to be told. Her smile had warmed by a shade or two, eyes bright and soft in the subdued light. “You make _much_ more sense now.” The words were clearly without guile, and to have her gaze focused on him so intently might have made him uncomfortable under other circumstances. Usually hostility followed such a study, but not that time.

“I’ve never met a werewolf before,” she had said. Other people had said it to him, and he’d swept a bow and grinned, demonstrating a trace of the Marauder he’d been, or removed himself from the situation altogether before the insults followed in his wake. There was no urge to do either one with Tonks; she was simply making an observation. “And what have you deduced, now that you’ve met one?” he’d asked, faintly amused.

“I think that you’re much more interesting than you give yourself credit for.” The honesty of the words had disarmed Remus, and the amusement only grew when Tonks added, “Also, that you break more laws on purpose before breakfast without being caught than other people manage in decades.”

Yes, he’d laughed quite openly at that, primarily because it was incredibly accurate. Laws were things that Remus considered useful to a point, but much like school rules, they could be bent or broken if need be. Generally, he was simply very good at _not getting caught_ , had a knack for quietly getting away with things unsuspected that James, Sirius and Peter had never been able to match. The skill had carried through most of his life. “No danger of that unless someone rats me out,” he’d pointed out, watched her roll her eyes to the proverbial heavens, she would obviously never be the one to get him into trouble. Merlin knew that Remus was quite capable of doing that all on his own without assistance. “Impossible man,” she’d declared with all the comfortable ease of someone who had known him for years instead of weeks. Relief and not a little fondness had been in his chest as he looked at Tonks, despite himself. He’d been mostly certain that she wouldn’t react badly, but to have such easy acceptance so quickly had happened only rarely. “Wasn’t it Lewis Carroll that said something about believing as many as six impossible things before breakfast?”

“Yes, but we both technically count as impossible things already,” she’d shot back, grinning, voice light and quick, making him smile because she was right; you didn’t get much more impossible than two shapeshifters once believed to be myths. “So really, four should be your limit, given that neither of us are really morning people and it’s only an hour or two from breakfast at this point.” Tonks had met his eyes, and shaken her head at him, perhaps seeing the last trace of doubt in his face. “I really don’t care, you know. Though I do appreciate the Alice reference. I like Muggle authors too.”

Remus had learned four things that stood out upon meeting Nymphadora Tonks, and noticed many others besides. There had been no time to wonder how she had reached past years of defences and natural reticence. The lingering instant after she had teased him about breaking laws and recognised his book reference and said she didn’t care, he learned a fifth: that he had already begun to value her to an extent that was frankly absurd, and her acceptance of him in return only made that fact easier to justify to himself. That mutual regard was something that would only strengthen over the course of months turning slow and steady into a year. Acceptance becoming more, eventually burning between them when the world began to fall apart in the form of a first kiss that tasted like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a request: Remus and Tonks on the theme of accepting one another. If you’re interested, the soundtrack for this was Garden by Halsey, and the title was generally inspired by _Burnt Norton_ , part the first of T.S. Eliot’s _Four Quartets_. The Lewis Carroll reference comes from _Alice Through the Looking Glass_.


End file.
